


Round & Round

by IllBeRightBack



Category: The Germs (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, Feelings, Heroin, M/M, idek man, since when do i write feelings????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllBeRightBack/pseuds/IllBeRightBack
Summary: "Finally dead?" she giggled a little, eyes struggling to focus."Nuh-uh," he murmured, "Takes a lot more than a fiver to kill Darby Crash."





	Round & Round

**Author's Note:**

> The Germs are like... My favorite band of all time, so enjoy THE FEELINGS if you can. I promise I'll be back to writing porn soon, I was just feeling shitty.

"Whore," Darby heard somebody in the room fake-cough.

"Whoever the fuck said that was owes me a beer," he announced, not looking up from the spoon and torch in his hand.

"Why's he a whore again?" Casey asked, trying to gather a general consensus amongst the drunk, drugged punks in the room.

Their considerate murmuring was drowned out, however. Prick, pump. He was soaring above them before he could hear whatever rumor was going around about him now.

"Let 'em say it," He slurred quietly to himself.

The door beside him was pushed open, he was pulled back to the ground and looked up slowly at the figure who had entered the room. It was Pat.

"Shit, shit, SHIT," he started to say, kneeling beside Darby and slapping his face lightly, "Terr, I found him!" He called into the hall.

Lorna stumbled through the doorway, clearly drunk.

"Finally dead?" she giggled a little, eyes struggling to focus.

"Nuh-uh," Darby murmured, "Takes a lot more than a fiver to kill Darby Crash." 

He was musing to himself in his head that there really was an unsatisfactory amount of smack in his veins when he was interrupted by Pat.

"Get the fuck up, NOW," Pat almost ordered. He pulled him to his feet roughly, making his head rush as he was pulled out the door, leaving Lorna behind.

They made it to the deserted sidewalk where Darby collapsed and Pat sat beside him.

"What the fuck is your problem, you said you were going home... HEY!" Pat snapped in his face, trying to get him to focus.

"I... was'goin home..." Darby almost puked up his words.

"Then why aren't you home?" He questioned.

"Amber had th'good shit," Darby smiled a little and laughed.

"I'm gonna wring that stupid cunt's FUCKING neck," Pat almost screamed, looking for something to throw. Nothing was within reach, so he fisted his ripped jeans.

"Why? I feel..." Darby paused, looking like he might throw up, before continuing, "I feel amazin', man"

"You're fucking killing yourself, can't you see that?! How many times am I gonna have to pick your junkie ass off the floor before you fucking get that?!" Pat started yelling again.

"Fuck you, I didn't ask you to come," Darby said in the loudest voice he could manage. He attempted to stand and tripped almost instantly, catching himself on the street lamp post.

Pat grabbed at his arm, trying to steady him, and he ripped it from his grip.

Pat just grabbed at him again and held him tighter this time, restraining him with his arms and pulling him against his chest.

"STOP," Pat said.

"Fuck you," Darby tried to say, but he was cut off by his own sobs. He had started crying and all of his weight collapsed into Pat's arms.

"Fuck you," he said again, weakly, "Fuck you."

He wasn't saying it as an insult now. He was saying it playfully. Lovingly. Like they always did.  
Pat just let tears well up in his eyes as he pulled Darby closer.

"Fuck you too, man," Pat tried smile.


End file.
